October 16, 2008

The Best Brush-off Line Ever Written and My Worst Date

So yesterday's foray down cinematic memory lane got me to thinking about some of my other favorite '80s movies. I'd like to dedicate today to Real Genius, and my favorite brush-off line ever. I've never used it, to my knowledge, but I did spend a lot of alcohol-soaked evenings in Iowa City and Chicago.

Chris (Val Kilmer): "Well, if there's ever anything I can do for you or more to the point to you, let me know." Susan (Deborah Foreman): "Can you hammer a six inch spike through a board with your penis?" Chris: "Not right now." Susan: "A girl's gotta have her standards."

Sometimes, a girl CAN and SHOULD use a brush-off line to avoid a HORRIBLE DATING EXPERIENCE. So this all reminds me of my worst date ever, which I will now share with you. I'm not sure if I've shared it before, as my Google searches for my own writing have proved fruitless on this subject.

Scene: Chicago, 1997. Our heroine is single and has accepted a blind set-up from a college friend. The set-up is the college friend's co-worker, so our heroine assumes he has been background-checked.

You know what happens when we assume, yes?

So I was hanging out with my friend J. and we had spent the day walking down to Navy Pier. I was wearing khaki shorts, and orange tank top, and clogs. I only remember this because of how the story went.

The guy had a weekend job at a record store by the museum of art. We were supposed to meet at like 5 and go for dinner or something, I don't remember. Anyway, he first wanted to go back to his place to "grab something."

Here's the first indicator that I should've run.

We went back to his place. He had two roommates. The first roommate I saw was a stripper. She was holding a one-eyed kitten. His other roommate had huge rasta hair and was eating what appeared to be about three pounds of ground beef straight from the pot. After the intros, rasta man held out the pot. "Want some?" he asked. My date looked at me quizzically, perhaps thinking this was a good solution to the dinner issue.

I was a vegan at the time.

I refused, and my date asked me if I minded if he smoked. I smoked at the time, so I said no problem. Instead of pulling out Marlboros, he pulled out a three-foot bong.

Another indicator. But no, I was thinking, well, maybe this isn't so bad, right? I think the fact that I thought this lends good insight into my self-esteem at 23.

So my date proceeded to get high, and then he moved over next to me on the couch. By now it's probably 7ish, and I was starving. I was wondering how quickly I could get wake-and-bake-boy to go to a restaurant near available CABS, as we were in an unfamiliar neighborhood with no taxis. My date was making small talk while I was pondering these things, and I was paying him little attention, fascinated by watching the stripper walk in and out of her bedroom, getting ready to go to work.

My date put his head in my lap and told me his therapist thought it was time he start a new relationship.

Rasta man set down his ground beef with a thunk and left the room.

The one-eyed cat hopped up on the table and started eating the beef.

I suggested we go to dinner.

We got to some sort Asian restaurant, and I ordered a vegetarian dish. My date ordered the fish. It came with it's head still on. My date completely freaked. (He was high, remember.) "It's looking at me," he said.

"It knows your thoughts," I said. I think he actually believed me. So, since he was hungry, he leaned over and started picking food off my plate, eating over half of my food. Then he told me ACTUALLY? he didn't have any money. So I paid for dinner.

At this point I was all, "I need to get back downtown." So then he said fine, his buddy was coming over in a little bit and they could give me a ride downtown, but totally, dude, they were going to DRINK! (which was a bar that I think no longer exists, but maybe I should say it was a CLUB, because there is a difference) and I should totally come with them.

I looked down at my khakis and mules and said, um, no. His buddy arrived, all spiked-dog-collar-and-shaved head, along with his buddy's girlfriend, who barely spoke English but for some reason had a tattoo of the Iowa state bird (the goldfinch) on her breast, which she proceeded to show me. My date told her I was from Iowa. Apparently she had a dream about Iowa once in Japan and thought it was very quaint, hence the tattoo. There are people the world over who confuse Iowa with utopia, apparently.

So there I was, rolling toward DRINK! with these three people, who were getting even more high as they were driving, and I was really wondering what I did wrong to deserve this level of karmic retribution. We got to the bar, and because I was too damn nice and insecure at this point of my life, I allowed myself to be led inside. (There were cabs there, so I was feeling better already.) We got to the DANCE DANCE DANCE level of the bar -- I think there were like four levels, I don't really remember. My date tried to dance with me. I said I needed a drink. We went to the bar, he ordered four drinks, and then! What do you know? He had no money. I ended up paying for all the drinks, which meant I no longer had cab fare. GOD. RITA WAS SO DUMB AT 23. NOT THAT SHE IS SO SMART NOW, BUT SERIOUSLY? BETTER.

My date, frustrated that I wouldn't dance with him, began to do wild gyrations in a circle around me. People were staring. I was still wearing an orange tank top, khakis and mules. And I hadn't been home in almost seven hours. I was hungry and broke and furious. Finally I grabbed my date and was all YOU WILL TAKE ME HOME NOW OR I WILL EAT YOUR LIVER. So he borrowed his buddy's car and said he would drive me back to the north side. *I had finally wised up to the point that I knew I would have him drop me off at least two blocks from where I really lived, as my roommates weren't home.

BUT, on the way, he decided to play This Is Your Life, because he grew up in Chicago. He drove me past his elementary school, his high school, and his father's pottery studio. Since we were getting closer to Lakeview, I decided to focus on the goal of getting home alive and let him drive without yelling at him anymore. Finally he got close enough for my taste, and I yelled, THIS! THIS IS WHERE I LIVE! I stomped out of the car and slammed the door and pretended to walk up the stairs to a three-flat.

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The Best Brush-off Line Ever Written and My Worst Date

So yesterday's foray down cinematic memory lane got me to thinking about some of my other favorite '80s movies. I'd like to dedicate today to Real Genius, and my favorite brush-off line ever. I've never used it, to my knowledge, but I did spend a lot of alcohol-soaked evenings in Iowa City and Chicago.

Chris (Val Kilmer): "Well, if there's ever anything I can do for you or more to the point to you, let me know." Susan (Deborah Foreman): "Can you hammer a six inch spike through a board with your penis?" Chris: "Not right now." Susan: "A girl's gotta have her standards."

Sometimes, a girl CAN and SHOULD use a brush-off line to avoid a HORRIBLE DATING EXPERIENCE. So this all reminds me of my worst date ever, which I will now share with you. I'm not sure if I've shared it before, as my Google searches for my own writing have proved fruitless on this subject.

Scene: Chicago, 1997. Our heroine is single and has accepted a blind set-up from a college friend. The set-up is the college friend's co-worker, so our heroine assumes he has been background-checked.

You know what happens when we assume, yes?

So I was hanging out with my friend J. and we had spent the day walking down to Navy Pier. I was wearing khaki shorts, and orange tank top, and clogs. I only remember this because of how the story went.

The guy had a weekend job at a record store by the museum of art. We were supposed to meet at like 5 and go for dinner or something, I don't remember. Anyway, he first wanted to go back to his place to "grab something."

Here's the first indicator that I should've run.

We went back to his place. He had two roommates. The first roommate I saw was a stripper. She was holding a one-eyed kitten. His other roommate had huge rasta hair and was eating what appeared to be about three pounds of ground beef straight from the pot. After the intros, rasta man held out the pot. "Want some?" he asked. My date looked at me quizzically, perhaps thinking this was a good solution to the dinner issue.

I was a vegan at the time.

I refused, and my date asked me if I minded if he smoked. I smoked at the time, so I said no problem. Instead of pulling out Marlboros, he pulled out a three-foot bong.

Another indicator. But no, I was thinking, well, maybe this isn't so bad, right? I think the fact that I thought this lends good insight into my self-esteem at 23.

So my date proceeded to get high, and then he moved over next to me on the couch. By now it's probably 7ish, and I was starving. I was wondering how quickly I could get wake-and-bake-boy to go to a restaurant near available CABS, as we were in an unfamiliar neighborhood with no taxis. My date was making small talk while I was pondering these things, and I was paying him little attention, fascinated by watching the stripper walk in and out of her bedroom, getting ready to go to work.

My date put his head in my lap and told me his therapist thought it was time he start a new relationship.

Rasta man set down his ground beef with a thunk and left the room.

The one-eyed cat hopped up on the table and started eating the beef.

I suggested we go to dinner.

We got to some sort Asian restaurant, and I ordered a vegetarian dish. My date ordered the fish. It came with it's head still on. My date completely freaked. (He was high, remember.) "It's looking at me," he said.

"It knows your thoughts," I said. I think he actually believed me. So, since he was hungry, he leaned over and started picking food off my plate, eating over half of my food. Then he told me ACTUALLY? he didn't have any money. So I paid for dinner.

At this point I was all, "I need to get back downtown." So then he said fine, his buddy was coming over in a little bit and they could give me a ride downtown, but totally, dude, they were going to DRINK! (which was a bar that I think no longer exists, but maybe I should say it was a CLUB, because there is a difference) and I should totally come with them.

I looked down at my khakis and mules and said, um, no. His buddy arrived, all spiked-dog-collar-and-shaved head, along with his buddy's girlfriend, who barely spoke English but for some reason had a tattoo of the Iowa state bird (the goldfinch) on her breast, which she proceeded to show me. My date told her I was from Iowa. Apparently she had a dream about Iowa once in Japan and thought it was very quaint, hence the tattoo. There are people the world over who confuse Iowa with utopia, apparently.

So there I was, rolling toward DRINK! with these three people, who were getting even more high as they were driving, and I was really wondering what I did wrong to deserve this level of karmic retribution. We got to the bar, and because I was too damn nice and insecure at this point of my life, I allowed myself to be led inside. (There were cabs there, so I was feeling better already.) We got to the DANCE DANCE DANCE level of the bar -- I think there were like four levels, I don't really remember. My date tried to dance with me. I said I needed a drink. We went to the bar, he ordered four drinks, and then! What do you know? He had no money. I ended up paying for all the drinks, which meant I no longer had cab fare. GOD. RITA WAS SO DUMB AT 23. NOT THAT SHE IS SO SMART NOW, BUT SERIOUSLY? BETTER.

My date, frustrated that I wouldn't dance with him, began to do wild gyrations in a circle around me. People were staring. I was still wearing an orange tank top, khakis and mules. And I hadn't been home in almost seven hours. I was hungry and broke and furious. Finally I grabbed my date and was all YOU WILL TAKE ME HOME NOW OR I WILL EAT YOUR LIVER. So he borrowed his buddy's car and said he would drive me back to the north side. *I had finally wised up to the point that I knew I would have him drop me off at least two blocks from where I really lived, as my roommates weren't home.

BUT, on the way, he decided to play This Is Your Life, because he grew up in Chicago. He drove me past his elementary school, his high school, and his father's pottery studio. Since we were getting closer to Lakeview, I decided to focus on the goal of getting home alive and let him drive without yelling at him anymore. Finally he got close enough for my taste, and I yelled, THIS! THIS IS WHERE I LIVE! I stomped out of the car and slammed the door and pretended to walk up the stairs to a three-flat.